Epargner Mon Coeur Mort
by serinity818
Summary: Bella tried to kill herself.Twice.Charlie takes her to Forks to see Dr. Cullen.Bella tries to committ suicide again and Charlie and Dr.Cullen decide that she should move in with the Cullens for her own safety.Can Edward save her dead heart?
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING. THIS STORY CONTAINS PROGRESSINGLY INTENSE SUICIDE AND SELF HARM THEMES. THEY ARE RELATIVLY MILD IN THIS CHAPTER BUT WILL CONTINUE TO GET MORE GRAPHIC. LET US HOPE THAT EDWARD CAN HELP BELLA BEFORE SHE DOES SOMETHING EXTREMELY DRASTIC.**

**Chapter 1**

It's a physical urge, huger and stronger than thirst or sex. Halfway back on the left side of my head there is a spot that yearns, that longs, that pleads for the jolt of a bullet. I want that rage, that fire, that final empty rip. I want to be let out of this dark cavern, to open myself up to the ease of not-living. I am tired of sorrow and struggle and worry. ... I want to turn out the last light. –Jean Hegland, _Into the Forest_

**Isabella Marie Swan – January 1****st****, 2010**

"THIS IS YOUR ENTIRE FAULT, CHARLIE! IF YOU HAD BEEN AROUND MORE WHEN SHE WAS GROWING UP, MAYBE SHE WOULDN'T BE LIKE THIS!!!!!," Renee was hissing.

"HOW COULD I! YOU TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME WHEN SHE'S NOT A MONTH OLD AND THEN GIVE ME JUST A MONTH EVERY YEAR WITH HER!! HELL, I HAVEN'T SEEN HER FOR ANY EXTENED PERIOD OF TIME IN YEARS!! AND THEN YOU GO AND MARRY THIS BALL PLAYER!! TELL ME YOU HAVEN'T BEEN SPENDING ALL OF YOUR TIME WITH HIM!! IF SHE HAD BEEN LIVING WITH ME SHE WOULD HAVE NEVER EVEN THOUGHT OF DOING SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!" I could just see Charlie's face turn red.

"Don't you dare blame this on me and Phil!!" Renee was whispering now, after a nurse had walked by the room.

"Well whose fault is it them? You sure as hell haven't been telling me anything!!! The fucking _doctor_ was the one who even told me she was in the hospital when he needed more of my medical history!! You can be sure that that will be noted at the hearing." Who knew passive Charlie Swan could sound so venomous?

"HEARING?! What hearing?" Renee was now pacing short laps in the small alcove.

"The hearing at which I will be applying for full custody of Bella; it has become painfully clear that you are unable to care for her properly. I MEAN HAVE YOU EVEN LOOKED AT HER WRISTS!!? SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE'S BEEN STICKING HER HANDS IN BROKEN GLASS! AND HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO NOTICE THAT YOUR _DAUGHTER_ HAS LOST AT LEAST FIFTY POUNDS SINCE THE LAST TIME I SAW HER!! IF SHE WASN'T STRAPPED TO THE BED SHE'D FLY AWAY IF THEY OPENED A WINDOW!!" They were back to shouting now.

"YOU CANNOT TAKE _MY_ DAUGHTER AWAY FROM ME! NO JUDGE IS GOING TO HAND CUSTODY OVER TO AN ABSENT FATHER OF SIXTEEN YEARS." Renee rebutted.

"HAH!! WHAT JUDGE IS GOING TO LET A MOTHER WHO LETS HER DAUGHTER TRY TO COMMIT _SUICIDE_ KEEP HER DAUGHTER?" this was followed by another nurse walking by, which lowered their volume once again.

"As soon as Bella is discharged she is coming back to Forks with me. I already called a lawyer and got an early court date. My lawyer will be in contact with your lawyer to serve you the papers. You have a week to prepare." Charlie walked from the room with this. Renee stayed a few moments more before a nurse came in and told her that visiting hours were over.

The whole time my parents had been arguing outside my room I have been staring at the white, textured ceiling; my arms and legs strapped to the bed and tubes strapped to each of my arms. The inane beeping of the heart monitor was taunting me, bragging that I had not prevailed in silencing it.

Three days ago I had tried to kill myself.

I had wanted to end my life for months and had finally scrounged up the courage to do it. My life is full of reasons to die and very few reasons to live that are eclipsed by those to die. Over the past two years I have gone from a straight-A student to a potential drop out, from a healthy weight for my height to dangerously thin, from a moderately happy teenager to a suicidal one. You may think "why does she want to kill herself? Is she abused? Did someone die? Did something terrible happen to her?" The answer to all of these questions is yes….and no.

I know why I want to die. But I will not tell you. The doctors begged me to tell them. I didn't.

I am not abused. Physically or mentally. But, perhaps I am emotionally, unknowingly abused by those around me. And sometimes, knowingly abused by those who intend to cause me pain.

Did someone die? Yes…me…multiple times.

Did something terrible happen to her? If you mean my life, then yes. If you mean was I raped or tortured? No.

Three days ago my mother and her new husband left for a week to go to Jacksonville, Florida on a try-out for Phil's minor-league baseball career.

_Flashback_

_ The empty feeling in my chest finalized my decision. I was completely numb as I lay in the bathtub. I reached for a new razor from under the sink and rolled up my sleeve to reveal a spider web of fresh and older wounds. I located the thick blue rein on my wrist and sliced, not feeling the pain. I repeated this with the other wrist. I felt nothing as the life began to drain away from me. I was happy as I thought about my miserable life ending. _

_ I began to feel weak and my thoughts began to cloud. It was becoming harder to breathe and I embraced the black spots that started to envelope me._

_End Flashback_

Unfortunately, Renee had forgotten her cell phone and had walked in just in time to call 911. It was also very unfortunate that I cut just a mite too shallow. So now, here I am, in West Valley Hospital, strapped to a bed, on suicide watch (like I could get away with it strapped to a bed), wrists wrapped in four inches of gauze and hooked up to a dozen different machines. And then I have like three different psychiatrists breathing down my neck every other hour. My parents are bitching like they're the ones in my situation.

If I wanted to die before this, I want to even more now.

Thankfully, the doctors and my parents can only keep me in the hospital for another week due to the fact that so long as I _say _it was an accident and the only other witness was Renee, they can't legally prove I was trying to commit suicide. I love child advocate lawyers.

I suppose I can wait another week to die. It won't matter once I'm dead.

For now I will wait patiently for that final, sweet release from this hell.

**Charlie Swan**

I don't believe that I have been so neglectful of my daughter. I can't believe that I am sitting in a cheap hotel room after visiting my daughter in the hospitals suicide watch wing. My head is in my hands and I'm making a solemn vow. I get up and reach into the drawer of the nightstand and pick up the Holy Bible that sits there. I lay my right hand on the cover and bow my head in silent prayer that God would help me to help my daughter.

"I, Charles Arthur Swan, swear that I will take my daughter from this place and do everything in my power to help her" I set the Bible down and lay back in the bed.

I should have fought harder for custody of Bella when Renee and I were getting divorced. Renee had always been a flighty, irresponsible person who could never be expected to care for Bella properly. From my summer visits with Bella it always seemed that she was raising Renee instead of the other way around.

I haven't been there, but all of that is going to change. After Bella had been successfully revived and was out of the woods I hired a lawyer who said that my chase was a sure thing since I wanted custody of Bella. He said we just had to give Renee a week to work up a rebuttal and then a judge would decide.

****

**Bella Swan 1 week later**

I was getting out of here today. For the past week at least a dozen therapists and psychiatrists have tried to get me to 'open up'. Renee comes and sits with me every day for about an hour, talking about unimportant things until I tell her to leave. Charlie comes and sits with me too, when Renee's not here, and just sits. The first day he hung his head and apologized to me. I told him that it wasn't his fault, that I wanted it. I don't make him leave because after that first day he got that I didn't want to talk and so he just sits by my side for hours at a time and watches TV. Today he came in with a confident aura around him.

"Hey Bells. Umm, you haven't been to Forks in long time have you?" He knew the answer to that question. He must have won at the hearing and is now trying to get me to _want to go_. It's good for him that I _do_ want to go to Forks. I can elude Charlie better than I can Renee _and_ Phil.

"You don't have to ask Charlie. I can tell by your asking that that you now have custody of me and are just trying to get me to _want _to go. I do. We'll leave as soon as I'm discharged." With that he relaxed and left to sign the papers.

Renee came in a few minutes later.

"So, you want to go with Charlie do you? Fine, go to Forks. You'll be miserable up there. But then again, you seem to enjoy misery now don't you…..I love you Bella." She left.

The doctor came in and untied my restraints and took out the IVs. A nurse came in with my clothes. My body was stiff and sore from being strapped to the bed and I stumbled several times while trying to dress myself. As I wash brushing my tangled hair I saw that a new patient was being set up in the room across the hall. I crept to the door of my room and watched as a nurse punched in the security code on the medication cart; _778349_. The nurse disappeared behind the curtain in the room. A smile crept across my face.

I ran and ducked behind the cart, making sure that no one could see me as I stealthily typed in the security code and open the first drawer. How lucky I had taken extended health and first aid classes. All I needed was 120 mg of morphine and I could be rid of this hellish life. The first drawer was filled with simple anti-inflammatory medication and injection supplies. I grabbed a few syringes and a rubber sash. I quickly searched in the second drawer until I found the vials of morphine. I could hear the nurse in the room finishing up so I grabbed as many as I could in my free hand and ran back to my room and into the connecting bathroom. I tied the sash around my upper arm and filled the first syringe with morphine.

I immediately felt the hollow expanse of my chest quiver with anticipation. This life has left me empty and the only way I can truly be alive is to die. I felt numb now and sluggish so I quickly filled the next syringe and injected it into my thick blue vein that pushed against my pale skin. I repeated this with three more vials while my hands were still stable. Twenty milligrams per vial times five vials equals one hundred milligrams…just one last vial….the tips of my fingers were blue….it was getting harder to breathe…my vision was blurring and the room was spinning around me….my hands started to shake and I knew that I was about to have a seizure….no…..no….I have to get that last vial in….my hands shake and I drop the vial….it breaks on the tile floor….NO….NO….I cry out in anguish as my world starts to shake and tremble. An uncomforting blackness collapses around me………………………………………

**3****rd**** person.**

The nurse leaving the room across from Bella's hears her anguished cry and runs into her bathroom to see Bella begin to seize. The nurse calls a code. The doctors see the morphine vials and give her activated charcoal to counteract the morphine. Luckily after an hour Bella was awake and discharged after she called a lawyer who threatened to sue the hospital for giving a minor access to lethal narcotics, especially when said minor was in a fragile mental state. Bella was out of there and packing her things to go in four hours.

**Bella Swan – home of Renee + Phil Dwyer + Bella**

DAMN, SHIT, FUCK!!! I was mentally screaming. I was ONE FUCKING VIAL AWAY!!! Charlie was seething, waiting to yell at me. He drove me to my 'old' house to pack everything I wanted to take to Forks. It didn't take long considering my wardrobe is made for the sweltering weather of Arizona; but I did manage to scrounge up a bunch of jeans and long pants along with a decent number of long sleeved shirts plus my old heavy winter coat that remarkably still fit. Charlie was standing in the doorway, watching my every move. Beside my clothes I packed a carry on with my laptop, iPod, and the few books I could stand to read until I could try again. Renee wasn't there, having already said goodbye to me. Charlie put my luggage in the trunk of the rental car and drove us to the airport in a thick silence, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

We arrived at the airport, checked our luggage, went through security, boarded the plane, buckled our seatbelts and began our journey into the cold, wet, green hell that is Forks, Washington. (Of course Phoenix, Arizona is a hot, dry, red/orange hell)

About a half hour into the flight Charlie decided to break to silence.

"Bella, once we get to Forks I am taking you to see Dr. Cullen." He seemed to have a sudden resolve for action. I scoffed at him.

"_Doctor _Cullen? As in a psychiatrist? Really Charlie, really? Did you not see the droves of those quacks I drove to tears back at the hospital? What makes you think this doctor is going to make a difference?" Even though the words were slightly angry in context I said them in my customary bland, emotionless voice.

"Dr. Cullen just happens to be possibly the best doctor in the whole field. His research has been internationally acclaimed and he owes me a favor. Now, you'll go to see him and you'll be civil." Charlie gave me a serious look. I was almost hurt. Charlie had _never_ given me a direct order, and had certainly never _scolded _me. I shut up and looked out the window, not seeing what was outside it, for the rest of the flight.

Charlie could make me go to see Dr. Cullen. Charlie could make me go to Forks, though I 'chose' to. Charlie can lock me in jail or lock me in an asylum. But Charlie _cannot_ make me _feel_ anymore. Nothing and nobody can.

About a year ago I had discovered that this life is worthless and meaningless. Since the dawn of time people have grown up, learned the basic life lessons, gotten married, and have had children who repeat the process. Then, as civilization progressed, children were born, they grew up in either mediocre, abusive, or privileged homes and turned out to be rotten, spoiled, good, or, most of the time, average. Those people then in turn had children of their own and the process repeats itself. People kill people, lie to them, deceive them, and steal from them. And for what? So that the people of this world can just grow more and more corrupt until eventually the god that created this world will finally get fed up with forgiving them and smite us all? I refuse to be a part of it anymore. Even if you never get married and never have children just by living you are contributing to the economy that sustains the rest of those who are in the great growing snowball of decrepit being. I just don't want to be another snowflake stuck in that snowball when it fills the ground.

Oh my dear God that sounded gay even in my head.

You get the point.

At some point I must have fallen asleep because Charlie had to wake me up when the plane landed in Tacoma Narrows Airport. We spent an hour going through security and retrieving our bags. Charlie didn't speak a word to me. I don't mind. Charlie led me into the extended time parking lot and I groaned when I saw that I would have to be driven around in a police cruiser. I asked Charlie why he hadn't taken a small plane from Port Angeles to Tacoma. His reply was that it was just cheaper to drive.

The vast amount of green gave me a headache and I quickly resorted to listening to Chopin and trying to sleep. The only people on this planet that I don't completely abhor are my parents and the great artists before us who have seen past the veil of false ambiguity and tried their hardest to make people see the world as it should be seen, whether it has been construed as a wonderful, dreadful, beautiful, or painful, they decided that their lives would be about more than mediocrity.

I could never do what the great artists like Chopin, Debussy, Shakespeare, Austen, Van Gogh, Da Vinci, the Bronte sisters, and the others that seem many but are few in comparison those who were hopeful and bold. Even if I dared try what the Greats have nothing I did who become famous until after I was dead. And that is exactly why all of the Greats are so great. People refused to embrace their ideas until after they were dead and could not be rebutted.

My thoughts were interrupted by Charlie closing his door loudly. I turned off my iPod and got out. My jaw hit the wet ground when I looked. Before me was an extremely nice house. It was three stories and completely modern with the walls curving in places and the layers of stories uneven** (the same Cullen house from the movie.)** Charlie was walking up the pathway to the door, which by the way was bordered on both sides by fountain ponds. I reluctantly followed Charlie and stood several feet behind him while we waited. I wasn't looking but I listened as we were let in.

"Chief Swan, I wasn't expecting you for another hour. Do please come in," the voice I heard was so smooth and kind. It was painful when it stopped.

"Thanks Dr. Cullen, but call me Charlie please. Isabella, come one," Charlie's voice was like sandpaper compared to silk to the other voice. I shuffled into the house.

It was even more spectacular inside than it was out. There was art work all over the walls, beautiful, haunting pieces that should be in museums. There was also expensive looking furniture. There was a staircase leading to the second floor with a large hallway visible behind a glass railing.

Charlie had continued to speak to Dr. Cullen while I looked around. I was suddenly, embarrassed, out of place and began to stare at the tips of my shoes. Charlie cleared his throat and I looked up, getting the point.

Dr. Cullen was the most gorgeous person I had ever seen in my entire life. His hair was styled in an impossibly casual, perfect way and was sunshine blond. His eyes were also the most exotic, strange, beautiful golden color. He looked like he belonged in some ancient Roman shrine instead of in the dinky town of Forks, Washington.

However, my own lack of self worth and preservation quickly banished these thoughts from my mind and I focused on the fact that this was the last person that stood between me and my goal.

"Hello Isabella, name is Carlisle Cullen. Welcome to my home."

****

**These opinions on life are not true. Life is a beautiful and wonderful thing that should be cherished. Bella just has some issues that our favorite vampires are going to help her with. **

**If you are considering suicide I am BEGGING you, please talk to someone.**

**If you are considering suicide please call one of these numbers immediately.**

**1-800-SUICIDE or 1-800-273-TALK**

**XXxxXXxxXXxxXX**

**PLEASE REVIEW.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – The Cullen Family and The Beginning**

The suicide arrives at the conclusion that what he is seeking does not exist; the seeker concludes that what he has not yet looked in the right place.** By Paul Watzlawick**

**Isabella Swan – January 6****th**** 2010. (In the last chapter Bella had already been in the hospital for three days out of the seven she was required to. Add that to the extra day she needed to attempt suicide again and to get to Forks means that this story will just be slightly behind of the rest of the world. I hope no one minds terribly.) **

"_Hello Isabella, name is Carlisle Cullen. Welcome to my home." _

His tone was calm, gentle, exactly like a shrinks. But his eyes didn't have that soft, silently happy and silently demanding quality. Instead his strange eyes held only honesty and pure good intentions. The sound of soft footsteps stopped my reply and I looked to my left to where the footfalls were coming from. A woman with long curly caramel hair emerged from behind an arch. Her curves were soft and her eyes were motherly. She was drying her hands on a professional white apron and her wide mouth had an exuberant smile. She looked like she had stepped out of my Snow White story book and into this modern fairy-tale house. What I found unbelievably strange was that her eyes were the same exact color as her husbands, assuming that she was Dr. Cullen's wife.

"Charlie, you've met my wife, Esme. And Esme, this is Isabella, Chief Swan's daughter."

"Hello, Chief Swan, Isabella. Chief Swan why don't I take you into the kitchen, you can sample the muffins I just made and we can give Carlisle and Isabella some time to talk," her voice was soft, like a warm embrace I could never enter. Charlie followed her through the arch and I was left alone with the doctor.

"Bella," is all I said as I began to walk around the room, looking at the paintings without seeing them, I was too occupied with keeping Dr. Cullen's movements in check. Shrinks were always trying to stroke my arm, or pat my back or some other kind of touch that was supposed to be reassuring and comforting when really it was just disturbing.

"Excuse me?" by his footsteps I could tell that he was actually going farther away from me and positioning himself like he was going to go up the stairs.

"I prefer to be called Bella," I said.

"Okay then Bella, would it be okay if we talked upstairs in my office? My kids will be home soon and they can be quite distracting." Kids? This guy didn't look like he was old enough to be a doctor, let alone a father of more than one child.

"Fine." I decided I wouldn't ask about the 'kids' thing. I didn't really care anyway.

I followed him up the stairs. I noticed that there was gaps on the wall with nails up high like there had been a painting or picture there and had been taken down. Again I said nothing as he led me down a hall on the second floor with one side of it completely made of windows that looked out in the evergreen forest like it was some giant still-life. He went into the first door and I followed him inside. The room had dark wood floors, the walls were floor to ceiling bookshelves with very old looking portraits and paintings hanging in the gaps between the shelves, the north facing wall was one giant window and the third, the one behind a giant, antique carved desk held a bunch of diplomas and degrees lining a very large painting with a party going on with three aristocrats standing above it on a balcony.

In front of the desk were two leather chairs. I sat in the one closest to the window/wall. I expected Dr. Cullen to sit behind the desk. Instead he sat on the desk, facing me. He smiled and I raised my eyebrow at him.

"So Bella, what's your favorite thing in the entire world?" Had I been eating something I'm sure I would have choked. What the fuck? Oh, I get this guys game.

"What's my favorite thing in the entire world? Are you serious?" I laughed "Oh, I get it. You're the _young, cool_ doctor who wants to focus on _me_ and then once we're 'best friends' I'll open up and throw up my soul like some perpetual made-for-TV-movie-time-of-reckoning-moment and then I'll have some epiphany or something and all of sudden want to live?" my voice was emotionless, though my words dripped with skepticism. He looked surprised but not significantly moved by my little speech.

He got up from the desk and walked over the window.

"Alright Bella, I'll parallel with you. Your father told me how a year ago you were a model student, and were for a lack of a better description 'a normal teenager' and then you all of sudden became depressed and decided you want to die. Now, with all due respect to the good police chief down there, I don't give a damn what he says about you. I'm just trying to understand why you feel the need to end your life. I apologize for what you conceived to be a very stereotypical question. What I was trying to attempt was to discover something about you that might help me better understand your side of these incidents without being subtly chastising with the customary questions about depression and self-esteem. Forgive me also if I seem to be a 'green-horn' due to my age. I can assure that I have no intention of being a 'cool, young doctor'." I looked at him sideways.

"You know Dr. Cullen, if you weren't an obstacle between me and eternal rest, I'd really like you." I told him truthfully. He smiled and returned to his previous seat with his hands clasped together and leaning forward with them on his knee.

"Well, thank you. But I hope you'll end up liking me anyway."

"I just might, considering you are the first shrink I've seen who hasn't burst into tears, whether actual or emotional." I groaned internally at the thought of the little girly psyche intern who had burst into tears five minutes into her session with me at the hospital.

"I can't imagine a shrink bursting into tears." He sounded like he wanted me to continue, which would lead to a conversation, which I wasn't up to.

"Dr. Cullen, I'm not quite up for a conversation." He got the point.

I looked to the many diplomas on the wall in front of me.

"You're a psychiatrist, so that means that you treat people with specific psychiatric disorders. So tell me, what disease does a suicidal teenager have?" My previously emotionless voice had taken a slightly condescending tone. He chuckled a bit.

"Usually in this case I believe the technical term for the 'disease' is angst. However, I believe that that is too simple of a reason for you. I'm not just a psychiatrist though, you know. I'm also a regular therapist and I even have a traditional medical degree." I was almost surprised.

"How the hell does someone your age have all of those degrees?" I asked glancing at the wall of diplomas again. He got up and started to walk around, he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

"I'm not as young as I appear. I'm thirty-four and I was homeschooled and graduated high school early. I got the medical degree first and once I had finished my internship and residency I realized that I wanted to pursue psychology and so I did." I wasn't really listening to him at this point. I realized I was getting too comfortable with this guy.

"Dr. Cullen, can we cut this short, I've been on a plane and then in a car for the better part of the day and I would really like to go to Charlie's house and shower." I stood up before he could answer and was walking towards the door before he replied.

"Of course,"

I walked down the hall and then down the stairs. I noticed that there was some talking coming from one of the rooms, but I didn't care to stop to investigate. I pulled on my jacket and Carlisle disappeared momentarily into what I supposed was the kitchen and came back with a very pleased looking Charlie who has a Tupper-Ware container of muffins in his hand.

"I hope my daughter behaved herself? Charlie asked as he pulled his leather policeman jacket on.

"Of course, I had a very nice talk with Bella and I hope we can do this again in the near future. Good bye Charlie, Bella," I waved goodbye as I was already out the door. I heard Charlie say goodbye.

When I got to the cruiser I noticed that my iPod had fallen out of my pocket. I turned back up the walk as Charlie started the car and waited for me. I let myself in, seeing the small silver device on the floor under the bench I had laid my jacket on. I was turning back to the door when I heard it. A piano was playing the most haunting melody I had ever heard.

The song was slow and torturous, like the notes themselves were in pain as they fled the instrument. It made the empty cavern in my chest where my heart lay in despair clench in torment. I wanted to go and find who was playing this song, but the music stopped suddenly. Feeling embarrassed I fled out the door and flew to the cruiser before jumping into the seat. I half expected Charlie to say something to me, but then again like me Charlie had never been much of a word person.

When we arrived I expected something about the house to have changed. But, no, it was the same small two story white house that needed a new coat of paint with the two tall oak trees standing guard out front with the detached garage holding the same old small fishing boat. Except now there was a rusty old truck sitting in the previously unoccupied half of the driveway.

"Billy Black, you remember him, was in an accident a few years ago and can't walk, so I bought his old truck for you to use." I thanked him quickly before I removed myself from the vehicle and made my way up the front steps. The spare key was still in its same place under the eave and I let myself leaving Charlie to handle the suitcases.

The living room had the same couch and armchairs with the same old throw blankets and the same cheap 'woodsy' art all over the place. There were still pictures of me when I was a little a girl and the same light blue curtains hung in the windows. The only new thing I could see was a large flat-screen TV. I walked through the kitchen, still painted yellow by my mother. I jogged up the stairs and unto the second floor. My old room was still the same light-purple it had been when I was a baby and there was the same twin bed I had slept on as a small child. The arts and crafts I had made as a child decorated every surface of the room; I would have to get rid of those. There was however a new purple comforter set on the bed. I left the room and went to the only bathroom in the entire house. I opened the medicine cabinet to find shaving cream…but no razor. I looked until the sink and on all of the shelves but could not find a single razor. Charlie must have sent one of his buddies from the reservation to clean the place out of anything I could harm myself easily with. I also noticed that the prescription medications I knew Charlie was on were locked in a cabinet above the stove in the kitchen. No, matter, I wasn't planning on trying to slit my wrists again or overdose. I was planning something a little more customary and fool proof.

Charlie had left my suitcases in my room and had run back downstairs to order a pizza for dinner. I decided to take a shower.

After my shower Charlie made sure I ate enough that he was satisfied I wouldn't starve and then let me go to sleep. Yeah right. The only way I can ever sleep is if I'm completely exhausted. Even then, the nightmares can still be unbearable.

****

I woke screaming. I shot up in bed and clamped my hands over my mouth before I buried my head in the pillow and screamed until my throat was raw.

I couldn't take the nightmares anymore. I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved tee and before I crept quietly down the stairs. Charlie was asleep in front of the TV, the highlights of the game that had been on earlier almost over. I snuck over to where Charlie had kept his gun belt when I was a kid.

It wasn't there. I figured. At dinner I had checked the silver ware drawer for a knife and they too had been clean out, along with the cheese grater, rat poison, and bleach. I pulled on my boots and very slowly opened the front door, wincing when it creaked anyway. I left it ajar behind me and made my way to the garage.

It was dark with on the vague shape of the fishing boat visible. I ran my hand along the wall, searching for a light switch. When I didn't find one I waved my hand above me searching for a pull light switch. My hand met with a string and I pulled, casting the cramped garage in a pool of yellow light from the bare light-bulb overhead. Against the wall there was a tool box and an array of fishing and hunting supplies. And in the corner was new gun vault. It was a combination lock and for the first time in my life I was glad that I thought like Charlie. He had obviously gotten the vault set up while he was away and would not have memorized the combination. If I had been in his situation I would have put a copy of the combination somewhere close by, but hidden. It was too obvious. Directly overhead had a mounted trout with an open mouth. I put my finger in the mouth and sure enough there was a small slip of paper. _7-23-16_

I unlocked the gun vault, the metal lock falling to the ground. I tensed as the lock rolled and bounced off the ledge of the boat and clattered to the ground. I quickly grabbed Charlie's pistol and checked the barrel. There were no bullets in it. The empty round so resemble how my soul felt.

I just wanted this emptiness to finally be over. I want to be able to rest for eternity in peace from my perpetual loneliness and grief over everything I can never have. I had spent my entire life on this wretched planet looking for _one_ single reason that was worth the _pain, _the _emptiness, _the _despair_, and had found none. So, I had decided a long time ago that the meaning for my existence does not belong to this earth and so I must leave it. The only thing that this gun will provide is to release the small part of my soul that still remains trapped in my body. Most of my soul has been gone for some time now, living in the shadow of what it truly desires. Soon, I will no longer have to live in the shadows. I will be able to fully embrace the earth shunned light.

I ran to the shelves above the tool table and rummaged around for the bullets. I found them at last and took one, shiny bullet. I kissed it before I dropped in into the hole and snapped the round back into place. I thanked god silently and cocked the pistol back, sweet relief flooding my aching body. I raised the barrel to the spot behind my ear and took one last shuddering breathe.

As I pulled the trigger I heard a shout and everything went black.

****

**Carlisle Cullen – Earlier That Day**

Chief of Police Charlie Swan called me yesterday and told me how his daughter that lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her mother had tried to commit suicide. He said that he had won custody of her and was bringing her to Forks in hopes that he could help her. His main reason for calling was that he wanted me to talk to her and see what I could do. I had been hesitant at first about counseling the daughter of a police officer considering my situation, but Alice said everything would be fine so I agreed. Though I did already owe the chief a favor.

When we first moved here two years ago Edward had been caught driving three times the speed limit and I had convinced Charlie not to arrest him if it meant that the best doctor in the area owed him a favor.

So today I am expecting the chief and his daughter. I'm expecting the usual teen angst; a bad breakup, teasing at school, low self-esteem, something of that nature. Esme has been watching the cooking networks all day in an attempt to have a little human comfort food ready for the chief when he brought his daughter by. We had also thought it best to send the 'kids' out for the day. Rosalie and Emmett only had to be told to leave and they were gone to fornicate in some deserted part of the woods no doubt. Alice dragged Jasper shopping and Edward…well Edward hasn't really been with us lately. He's been here, but not…_here_. He just seems to sulk around everywhere. Always in his room or on the roof or hunting. He wasn't there when I got the call for the chief and he wasn't there to be told to leave.

I heard the car coming around the road, and I quickly hid the paintings and other pieces that we could not reveal to the humans without questions arising. I opened the door when it rang.

Charlie and I exchanged pleasantries while his daughter, Isabella, stared at her shoes, her long, dark hair covering her face. A moment later, on cue my lovely angel appeared and whisked the chief away so I could fully asses Ms. Swan. She had walked over to one of the paintings, but I could tell she was focused on, me and my movements by her heart-rate. I took a few seconds to assess her physically. She was small, defiantly underweight and possibly anemic, and for someone from one of the sunniest parts of the country she was almost as pale as me. I could tell that her dark hair naturally would have more curl to it and a richer color but from the looks of Isabella I knew that her body was not creating strong enough hair proteins to create her natural style. Her hands were bandaged where she had cut herself and by the way she inclined her head I could tell that frequent headaches and possibly even migraines affected her along with definite sleep deprivation.

I was brought out of my assessment by a small voice.

"Bella," that's all she said.

"Excuse me?" I asked. I positioned myself closer to the stairs, preparing to suggest we continue to my study.

"I prefer to be called Bella," she said. I smiled a bit.

"Okay then Bella, would it be okay if we talked upstairs in my office? My kids will be home soon and they can be quite distracting."

"Fine" was all she said before she began to follow me up the stairs. I could sense her confusion about the 'kids' thing. I would have to clarify that in later sessions.

She followed me up to my office. When we arrived she sat in a chair and I on my desk. I tried to go the 'best friend' route first, just to test the waters of her mind.

"So Bella, what's your favorite thing in the entire world?" she gave me a skeptical look and then let into me.

"What's my favorite thing in the entire world? Are you serious?" she laughed "Oh, I get it. You're the _young, cool_ doctor who wants to focus on _me_ and then once we're 'best friends' I'll open up and throw up my soul like some perpetual made-for-TV-movie-time-of-reckoning-moment and then I'll have some epiphany or something and all of sudden want to live?" I was amazed at how emotionless her voice was despite the sarcasm that dripped from her words like venom. I was also extremely impressed with her intellect.

I see I will need to approach her from an entirely different angel. I walked over to the window.

"Alright Bella, I'll parallel with you. Your father told me how a year ago you were a model student, and were for a lack of a better description 'a normal teenager' and then you all of sudden became depressed and decided you want to die. Now, with all due respect to the good police chief down there, I don't give a damn what he says about you. I'm just trying to understand why you feel the need to end your life. I apologize for what you conceived to be a very stereotypical question. What I was trying to attempt was to discover something about you that might help me better understand your side of these incidents without being subtly chastising with the customary questions about depression and self-esteem. Forgive me also if I seem to be a 'green-horn' due to my age. I can assure that I have no intention of being a 'cool, young doctor'." She looked at me sideways.

"You know Dr. Cullen, if you weren't an obstacle between me and eternal rest, I'd really like you." I smiled at her and returned to my previous seat. In a session I have found that the environment becomes less threatening if I move around a bit.

"Well, thank you. But I hope you'll end up liking me anyway."

"I just might, considering you are the first shrink I've seen who hasn't burst into tears, whether actual or emotional."

"I can't imagine a shrink bursting into tears." I tried to lead her to continue but I could tell she was trying to and wanting to detach herself once again.

"Dr. Cullen, I'm not quite up for a conversation." I got the point. She wanted to leave.

She looked to the diplomas above my desk.

"You're a psychiatrist, so that means that you treat people with specific psychiatric disorders. So tell me, what disease does a suicidal teenager have?" My previously emotionless voice had taken a slightly condescending tone. He chuckled a bit.

"Usually in this case I believe the technical term for the 'disease' is angst. However, I believe that that is too simple of a reason for you. I'm not just a psychiatrist though, you know. I'm also a regular therapist and I even have a traditional medical degree." No, angst could never be the only or leading cause for someone as obviously smart as this girl.

"How the hell does someone your age have all of those degrees?" I started to walk around. No one had ever questioned me before to this degree. People just generally accepted what I told them.

"I'm not as young as I appear. I'm thirty-four and I was homeschooled and graduated high school early. I got the medical degree first and once I had finished my internship and residency I realized that I wanted to pursue psychology and so I did." I could tell that as soon as the question had left her mouth she had ceased to care.

"Dr. Cullen, can we cut this short, I've been on a plane and then in a car for the better part of the day and I would really like to go to Charlie's house and shower." She was already out the door before I could reply.

"Of course,"

The rest of my family had returned, including Edward, and I was eager to return to my Esme. I exchanged farewells with the chief and Isabella. As soon as they left, Esme and I left to hunt.

****

Much later after Esme and I had returned the house phone rang. I answered to a frantic Chief Swan.

"Dr. Cullen, Bella has tried to shoot herself!! I need your assistance at the hospital immediately."

****

When I arrived at the hospital the attending handed me Bella's file. Apparently Charlie was able to tackle her right as she pulled the trigger. The bullet grazed her back she went down. Her should muscles were torn and she was unconscious from hitting her head when she hit the ground, but other than that she was fine. Charlie met me outside her room.

"Dr. Cullen, I honestly don't know what more I can do to stop her from hurting herself. I know my daughter Dr. Cullen and she has always been such a constant thing. She will try every way imaginable to end her life. I got rid of all the sharp objects, poisons, hid the medications and the guns and she still managed to almost take herself away from me." he looked so dismayed. I extended my hand and laid it comfortingly on his shoulder while I tried to think of a solution.

"Charlie, I hate to say it, but the only solution may have to come to institutionalization,"

"No, I know Bella and that would only destroy her more. There must be something that can be done for her." Just then my iPhone began to vibrate.

I excused myself from Chief Swan for a moment.

"Carlisle," Alice's voice greeted me, "bring her home,"

"What Alice?" I was astounded that Alice would even think about suggesting we let a human into our home to stay.

"I've seen things Carlisle, most of them horrible. But, I know that if you bring her here and she stays with us everything will work out for the better. Besides, with a house full of vampires, one of which is a psychic and another whom is a mind reader, she will never be able to kill herself." I ran my hand through my hair. It wouldn't be easy. We would all have to pretend to eat and do other human things. We wouldn't be able to run or lift unless she was asleep. And then there was Jasper…

"Alice, what about Jasper? Will he be okay being around a human so closely and so often?"

"I've see that. As long as she isn't like touching him, or bleeding directly in front of him he'll be fine." I sighed.

"What does Esme think?" The other line was quiet for a moment.

"Okay, everything's set. I'll have her room ready in a few hours. Esme is thrilled!! She just left to go to the supermarket for groceries. Rosalie isn't particularly happy, considering her history and all, but is willing to be a help. Emmett is joyous to be able to freak out a human in close proximity. Jasper is out hunting right now in preparation. Edward is….well you know Edward, I'm not even quite sure where he is right now. But why are you talking to me? GO BRING HOME OUR HOUSE GUEST!!" the line went dead after Alice's blurring fast words.

I turned back to where Charlie stood his chin in his hands.

"Charlie, the only solution to this problem that I can see is to move Bella to a controlled environment where she will be safe from herself without her being institutionalized. She could move in with my family and me." Charlie raised his head.

"Are you sure that she won't be a danger to herself with your family?" he asked.

"I'm sure. My wife stays at home and paints and my kids are always around. I don't own any guns and my family has peer counseling training. At least this way we'll know that there will always be someone watching her just in case."

"Okay Dr. Cullen. The hospital is keeping Bella overnight to observe her back injury. They can't keep her here because of hear-say. Can I drop her off tomorrow after she is discharged?"

"Of course," that of course would give me and my family plenty of time to assimilate humanity within the house.

"Alright then Dr. Cullen, as of tomorrow I am holding you personally accountable for my daughter." He turned and walked into his daughter's room. I signed out at the staff office and went home.

I just hope my family can handle a suicidal teenage human in the house.

****

**NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE EDWARD AND BELLA'S FIRT MEETING + BELLA MOVES IN WITH THE CULLENS!!!!!!!!! **

**WILL INCLUDE EDWARD'S POINT OF VIEW AND BELLA'S **

**I HOPE TO UPDATE ONCE A WEEK.**

**CHAPTERS WILL BE LONG.**

**REVIEW OR THE NEXT UPDATE WILL TAKE LONGER.**


End file.
